


Maybe Christmas Isn't So Bad

by roseclare0000



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas fic, M/M, pure fluff, young cosette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 16:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8997913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseclare0000/pseuds/roseclare0000
Summary: Modern AU:
Valjean, Javert, and Cosette through the day of Christmas Eve. Pure fluff.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Listen guys, I'm writing this on a tired brain, and this is completely unedited, so I apologize in advance for any and all errors you may find. Please point them out to me and I will fix them. So without any further ado, enjoy some cute Valvert with a side of smol Cosette.

In hindsight, Javert should’ve known something was up when he woke up to find a freshly brewed coffee being thrust into his face by a small, bright-eyed little girl, accompanied by a cheerful “Good morning, Javert!”. No one ever brings him coffee while he was still in bed, no one; even Valjean would wait until he was downstairs to get him a mug. However, his sleep-muddled mind was not ready to make sense of what was going on, and had currently only one thought. Practically snatching the mug from Cosette’s hands, he didn’t even look up until he had drained the last of his coffee. Only then did he register the fact that Valjean had come in behind his daughter and was leaning against the doorframe with a fond smile.

“And how is our caffeine-addicted Inspector this morning?”

Javert set the cup down on the nightstand, and swept his hair out of his eyes to better to glare at the other man.

“I’m not addicted,” he grumbled under his breath, and received an incredulous snort from his partner in return.

Choosing to ignore that, he instead addressed Cosette, who had since jumped up on the bed and was now looking at him when an expectant expression, like she was waiting for something. It took Javert a moment to process with his sleep-addled brain what she wanted.

“Oh, yes, thank you, Cosette.” He said, somewhat belatedly.

The young girl rewarded him with a blindingly bright smile. “You’re welcome! Papa said we should bring you up some coffee. He said that if you don’t have any coffee, you get all cranky.” She said, with all the innocence of an angel.

Javert opened his mouth to argue, then realized that she wasn’t all that wrong. It was true he needed at least 3 cups of coffee in the morning before he could even function.

“Yes, well, thank you. That was…. thoughtful.” he said again, rubbing at his eyes and blinking any remaining sleep away. Once his vision had cleared, he glanced at the clock, and had to swallow back a curse as he realized he was going to be late. Hastily scrambling off the bed, he staggered to the closet blindly to search for his uniform. Behind him, he heard two identical badly-stifled laughs, which really didn’t help his mood.

“Why didn’t you two wake me sooner?” he threw over his shoulder as he crossed to the ensuite bathroom. Javert didn’t even need to look to know that Valjean was wearing another one of his indulgent smiles again.

“Well, you looked so peaceful when you were sleeping, I couldn’t bear to wake you.” he heard Valjean say.

Javert ducked his head around the door to give Valjean an irritated look while trying to take off his pyjamas at the same time. “Well, if you didn’t insist on being all sappy- SHIT!”

The exclamation burst from his mouth as he failed to step out of his pants properly and tripped, miraculously saved from a face-plant by pulling himself up by the doorknob at the last moment.

Cosette let out a giggle while Valjean tsked at him jokingly. “Language, Javert, there’s a child present.”

Javert refused to deign that comment with a snarky reply, due to the fact that he was running out of time; or at least, that’s what he told himself.

 

When he got out of the shower a few minutes later, fully dressed his uniform and more or less ready for the day, he found that Valjean and Cosette had vacated the room in exchange for the kitchen downstairs. A plate of buttered pancakes and a travel mug of coffee was offered to him by Valjean, who was trying to coax Cosette away from the box of sprinkles.

“That’s for tonight, Cosette, when Javert comes home. You can wait until then.” He said to the small child, who pouted but nonetheless plopped down on a chair to begin to consume a stack of chocolate pancakes.

Valjean watched her for a few moments with a content expression on his face, and Javert took that time to admire him in between shoveling food into his mouth. Early morning sunlight streamed into from the windows, turning Valjean’s snowy hair into pale gold and framing his head with a halo like that of a saint, which Javert found absolutely fitting. His broad and toned body was hidden beneath a plaid shirt and a pair of fitted jeans that looked way too good on him than it had any right to be. Almost like he felt the eyes on him, Valjean turned to look at him with a playful smirk that made Javert swallow rather painfully.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” The question was put to him followed by a raised eyebrow, and Javert almost swore again and tried (quite unsuccessfully) to hide his blushing face by taking a large gulp of his coffee, which only resulting in pain as the scalding coffee made its way down his throat.

Coughing profusely, Javert finally managed to raise his head again, to find that Valjean was trying to hide his smug expression by turning around to busy himself with something that didn’t need tending to on the stove.

Muttering something uncomplimentary under his breath, Javert yanked his keys from its hook on the wall with perhaps more force than necessary. Cosette looked up at her father with a confused expression. “Papa, why is Javert mad at the keys?” This drew an amused chuckle from Valjean, who walked over to where Javert was struggling to balance his travel mug, his coat, his keys, and trying to open the door at the same time. “Actually, I don’t think it’s the keys he’s mad at,” he said, reaching out to straighten Javert’s tie for him and to open the door.

Mumbling a quick thanks, Javert pressed a quick kiss to Valjean’s cheek and dashed out the door and promptly sliding on the ice, narrowly avoiding crashing into his car. The last thing he heard before he got into the cruiser was Valjean’s roar of laughter. Dropping his head onto his steering wheel, Javert let out a long-suffering groan.

“I fucking hate Christmas."

 

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What seems like ages, but was in reality only 10 hours, later, Javert collapsed into the driver’s seat of his car. For a few moments he just sat there with his eyes closed, fighting against the headache that was making its presence known with a vengeance. It honestly seemed like the universe was trying to make his day as annoying as possible. In addition to waking up late and being 20 minutes late for his shift, from the moment Javert stepped into the precinct, he was buried beneath a mountain of paperwork.

Due to the fact that it was the day of Christmas Eve, only a few officers were still in, and of course they all decided they needed help from the most senior person in that day, which just so happened to be Javert. He spent the day trying to finish both his own paperwork that still needed to be written up, and fixing some, truth be told, really stupid mistakes _that someone who’s been in the force for 6 years should not be making, Lee!_

Not only that, but the coffee maker chose that particular day to give up on life and refuse to dispense any coffee, which meant Javert had to walk 2 blocks in the freezing and snowy weather to the nearest café for his fourth and fifth coffee of the day. Normally, he wouldn’t be downing so many cups of coffee in one day, but honestly, he didn’t know if he could make it to the end of his shift if he had to put up with his coworkers if there wasn’t caffeine pumping through his system.

A text notification sound coming from his phone pulled Javert out of wallowing in his own weariness and misery. Groaning loudly, he half-thought about ignoring whoever was texting him, but ultimately his sense of duty won over. Groping around blindly in his bag with his eyes still closed, Javert dug his phone out and brought it up to his face, recoiling when the bright light from the screen stabbed into his eyes. Blinking rapidly to clear away the spots, he squinting at the text he had just received.

**[Jean Valjean, 6:14 pm] Are you still at work? Cosette has been asking whether you were going to come home in time for cookie making for the past hour or so.**

Javert dragged himself upright in his seat and tried to respond in a semi-coherent manner.

**[Javert, 6:15 pm] In the car. Be home in 20. Officers being incompetent. As usual.**

He stared at his phone for a few seconds, then added as an afterthought:

**[Javert, 6:16 pm] And I am most definitely not making cookies with your daughter, VJ. That’s a job for her father, not her father’s partner.**

The reply came quickly, and Javert could just see Valjean smiling as he typed out his response.

**[Jean Valjean, 6:16 pm] If you say so. Drive safe. X <3]**

Javert stared at the emoji heart, a small smile playing at the edge of his lips. Then, realizing he was being sentimental, he tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and started the car, shaking his head. “I must be spending too much time around Cosette,” he muttered to himself as he pulled out of the parking lot.

 

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“What in the world are you wearing, Valjean?”

The scandalized exclamation was the first thing that Javert could think of to say as he came in the front door to find himself staring at his partner, who was wearing what was possibly the ugliest Christmas sweater in existence.

Valjean turned around at his outburst and Javert took a physical step backwards as the full extent of the sweater’s horrendousness was revealed to his eyes. “Cosette picked this out for me today at the store,” Valjean said, beaming with joy, “isn’t it great?”

Javert dragged his gaze across the neon green and lopsided Christmas tree, the bright red prancing reindeer, randomly placed bows, and the flashing rainbow lights, and was about to answer when he noticed Cosette staring at him anxiously, like she was somehow waiting for his approval. With some difficulty, he swallowed back his offer to take the sweater out into the snow to burn and instead nodded mutely. Cosette’s face immediately brightened and Javert suddenly found his arms full as the girl squealed and tackled him in a hug.

“We got you one too!” Cosette pulled back to look at him with wide blue eyes. “Papa said we should all wear matching ones!” To demonstrate her point, she twirled around to show off her sweater, which was indeed matching her father’s.

Javert nodded slowly again, then jerked his head up in shock as the meaning of her words sunk in. “No way in hell am I putting that on,” he said flatly, glaring at the offending sweater that Valjean was now holding out.

Valjean gave him a look that clearly said ‘ _Are you really going to disappoint her?_ ’. Caught between that and the puppy eyes Cosette was currently making at him, Javert didn’t find it in his heart to refuse. Heaving a long-suffering sigh, he conceded to his fate.

“Now I know why you two brought me coffee this morning,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head, “of course there had to be something you wanted from me.”

When no reply seemed to be forthcoming, he huffed and thrust out a hand. “Alright, hand it over then,” he demanded, and yanked the sweater over his head with ill grace.

Unfortunately, the sweater seemed to be too big for him; when glaring at the sweater didn’t seem to fix the problem, Javert rolled his eyes and pushed the sleeves up so that he wasn’t completely swimming in it. Cosette clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles, which told Javert that he probably looked completely ridiculous. Valjean tapped him on the shoulder, and handed him some bunched up fabric.

“Remember the cookies?” he asked, all traces of amusement carefully concealed, save for his eyes, which were sparkling with laughter.

Javert shook out the fabric, which revealed itself to be an apron that was obviously bought that day, with a large smiley face on it made from police stars and a pair of handcuffs. Sighing again, he slipped the apron on without compliant. Who was he to disappoint a little girl?

 

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About a quarter of the way into the second batch of cookies, Valjean finally decided to take pity on Javert and took over for him. Cosette didn’t seem to mind losing her helper, as Javert had been less than enthusiastic about the making of cookies, and Valjean was admittedly a much better baker. With a great deal of relief, he perched himself on the kitchen table with a mug of peppermint hot chocolate that had been handed to him by Valjean when they exchanged places, and contented himself with watching.

The kitchen island had been completely sacrificed for the use of cookie making, and was covered fully with a dusting of flour. Although they were technically ‘Cosette’s cookies’, in reality it had been the two men who did most of the work. Currently, Valjean was rolling up out the cookie dough with a look of concentration of his face while Cosette was jumping up and down, giving out helpful pointers like “You missed a spot, Papa” and “Roll it thinner!”

Javert found his eyes following the hard lines of muscle flexing in Valjean’s arms as he focussed on his task. It was strange to see what once had wrested metal apart to save a man from a mangled car to now be put to work in such a mundane task. He found himself longing to just reach out and run his hands down those corded muscles and trace the scars that lay there, but managed to hold himself back by reassuring himself that later that night, he could spend all the time he wanted mapping out and worshipping every inch of his partner’s body.

The last of the cookies went into the oven, and Javert reluctantly relinquished his seat on the table in exchanged of a chair. The already baked cookies was carried to the table by a determined-looking Cosette, who then promptly offered one to Javert. He wasn’t usually one for sugary treats, but as it seemed to the theme of that night, he just couldn’t say no. Thankfully, Cosette didn’t seem likely make him eat any more, being too busy drawing designs with a piping bag filled with blue icing. Valjean sat down next to him with his own mug of hot chocolate, and watched Cosette decorate the cookies with affection clear in his expression.

After a little while, he turned to Javert and gave him a small smile. “Thanks for baking with Cosette. I really appreciate it.” He said, clearly meaning every word.

Javert looked away in embarrassment, still not being used to being appreciated even after being with Valjean for a while now. “Yes, well, it wasn’t like I had much of a choice…” he mumbled abashedly, then added before Valjean could protest, “It was nothing. It was actually enjoyable, much to my surprise.”

Valjean’s smile grew wider. “The serious and uptight Inspector Javert enjoying baking with a little girl? Scandalous!”

Javert snorted at the teasing words. “Better not let anyone else find out, Valjean.” he warned, trying to sound serious.

Valjean leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Don’t worry, Inspector,” he murmured, eyes sparkling, “your secret is safe with me.”

 

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Another hour or so passed, in which the three of them sat grouped on the couch in front of the fire, Cosette sitting on her father’s lap while he read to her. Javert had his head propped on Valjean’s shoulder, lulled almost to sleep by the older man’s soothing voice and the warmth of the fire. The calm atmosphere had him not wanting to move for the rest of eternity.

That was not to be, however, as all too soon the book ended, and he was gently shaken awake by Valjean. Sitting up blearily, it took him a moment to remember where he was. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when Valjean shook his head and looked down at Cosette, who had fallen asleep.

“Can you please take her upstairs? I’m going to go clean up.” Valjean whispered, with an imploring look.

Javert nodded, and stood up, yawning. He gathered the sleeping child into his arms and made for the stairs, trying his best not to wake up. He didn’t quite succeed, however, as Cosette’s eyes fluttered open as he laid her down in her bed.

“Goodnight, Daddy.” she murmured drowsily, closing her eyes again.

For a moment, Javert was too shocked to move, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Valjean was ‘Papa’ to the little girl, but he had always been just ‘Javert’ to Cosette and not ‘Daddy’. When did that change?

He went back down the stairs, still somewhat in a state of shock. Valjean looked up at him from where he was back on the couch, his expression changing to one of concern as he noticed Javert’s face.

“Something wrong?” he asked, reaching a hand up to draw Javert down next to him.

Javert shook his head slowly. “No, nothing, it’s just…” he turned and looked at Valjean with something akin to disbelieve in his expression. “Cosette just called me ‘Daddy’.”

Valjean brust out laughing, trying and failing to stop when he saw Javert’s betrayed look. “Sorry, sorry,” he chortled, “but you should see the look on your face, like something unthinkable had just happened.”

He pulled Javert closer, and Javert laid his head gladly on his broad chest, relaxing into the embrace. “What’s so surprising about that? She cares about you, you know, and definitely sees you as her dad.” Valjean continued, running a hand down Javert’s back in a calming motion.

Javert made a sound of agreement. “Just took me by surprise, ‘s all.” he mumbled into Valjean’s shirt, which smelled of peppermint and cookies. The day’s stress finally getting to him, and he felt entirely too comfortable in Valjean’s strong arms.

Valjean chuckled. “Looks like Cosette isn’t the only one that needs to go to bed. Come on, let’s get you upstairs, Javert.” He tried to move, but Javert only snuggled himself closer and grabbed a handful of his shirt.

“’m fine, Jean. Don’t wanna move. Stay.” He was only vaguely aware what he was saying, and only knew that he felt too good to even bear the thought of moving. He was glad when Valjean eased back onto the couch and resumed stroking his back. “Alright, we’ll stay.” Javert felt Valjean lower his head to kiss the top of his head. “Merry Christmas, Javert.”

The only thought that passed through Javert’s mind before he drifted off to sleep, cocooned as he was in his lover’s embrace, was that maybe Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> This is quite literally my first fic ever where the entire fic is nothing but pure fluff, so I don't really know how good or bad this is. Reviews and feedback will be greatly appreciated and will be rewarded with virtual hugs! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone!


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